A Worthless Life
by SimplyTully
Summary: Past!Blackfish. A tragedy befalls Riverrun. Little Catelyn has only one friend, like her mother had. Some strong situations.


Inner chronology of my past!Blackfish tales:

A Worthless Life: Brynden is in his twenties

A Tully parting: Brynden is in his late thirties

The Knight of the Bloody Gate: about a year after "A Tully Parting"

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The Blackfish remembered nothing since Hoster had introduced the latest Tully heir to him.

Minutes - hours? - that would remain a blank in his mind forever. Brynden knew he had not killed his brother only because he himself appeared to be still alive, free, and sitting in the straw against the back wall of the dark stables at home, at Riverrun.

Brynden vainly hugged his knees to stop the shudders, still stuck in a vicious cycle where he pleaded with the Seven trying to bargain his worthless life for _hers_, before he remembered that if only he had bent his stubborn head, if he had accepted Hoster's will and sired some children of his own, then maybe she... His face drew down in a silent scream; his sore throat felt like he had actually screamed himself hoarse.

He tried to push back his hair, but his hands shook and tangled in his long red mane. He found with his fingers the leather thong that tied it and tore it away, along with several yanks of hair, throwing it across the stable. Hair fell again into his eyes, and for a moment he wanted to rake his face with his nails, he, who fussed if he could not shave twice a day; he did not mind about going through life disfigured, as long as he could erase that pain...

"Uncle Brynden?" a small voice said.

The young man let his hands fall and looked up, gaping, eyes wide open. But of course. Hoster, taking care of his own children in a crisis? Nonsense. Hoster's pain was only his, he'd deal with it alone; therefore everybody else was expected to do the same.

The little girl in the white nightgown walked towards the Blackfish, solemn and poised as usual, reminding him of someone taller, hair not auburn but dark, not a little girl but a woman.

_Dark hair, strong but elegant features, the mark of the Whents, the most faithful Tully bannermen in those times. __Minisa had been in his life since before he could remember. She walked towards him on the ramparts, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand. Her veil blew about her face along with strands of hair that artfully escaped her pinned-up braids. She grinned at his sight, a smile so wide it could erase all the sadness in the Riverlands. _

_Brynden sat in the shadow of the big triangular tower where the Tully lords and their families had lived and died for centuries. Since his brother had disowned him, his own quarters had been removed to a less noble section of the castle of Riverrun, but he liked them. He only had to descend a flight of stairs from his balcony to access the ramparts and enjoy the Tumblestone crashing beneath him. Of the two rivers forming the delta where Riverrun stood, the Tumblestone was his favourite. It went its own way. It never shut up._

_T__he Blackfish was fixing a leather halter, swearing every time he cut or pierced his fingertips with the tools. He loved to take care of his things. He hated to ask for help, to depend on others. He loathed having servants around. From early childhood he had made clear to Hoster that he could get up in the morning by himself, without intruders to open the drapes and ask if young master Brynden needed something. _

_Now his desire for independence had reached the point that Hoster did not talk to him anymore and kept him around only because he was a good fighter and tactician, even at his young age. He was also useful for diplomatic missions, and cut a fine figure at tourneys. Hoster had no time to waste with such things._

_Minisa reached him, smiling and clasping her hands in front of her waist. "I have something to tell you, Brynden," she said, sitting beside him on the cool stone. "I can't tell Hoster, he'd go mad with anxiety, and my maids are such gossips. Sometimes it feels like you're my only true friend."_

_The Blackfish put down the halter and stared at his sister-in-law with alarm. "Please, no... Again?"_

_Minisa nodded, her smile unfaltering. She was beaming, blooming, blessed by the Seven. A blessing?... She waved a hand at him. "Don't, Brynden. I didn't come here to be nagged."_

_"It's too soon! You almost lost Edmure, and your life. What was Hoster thinking?..." A wave of rage washed over the young man. "Of course, one male heir is not enough. He's got to bolster his position, and since his worthless brother has vowed not to marry, he'll get you with child until he kills you..."_

_Minisa took his callused hands gently into hers. "Oh, Brynden. Sometimes I'm sorry you're so... the way you are. I wonder if you understand what happens between a man and a woman in love. You're missing so much. Hoster and I... It's impossible for us not to be together. I wish you understood."_

_"I understand perfectly," Brynden replied, with such coldness that Minisa let go of his hands. Her words did nothing to abate his rage; rather they deviated it into another course of misery. He had known love and passion. Had he ever, just for once, been allowed his wish - he would never have let go of his loved one either. Minisa loved Hoster, dour cold Hoster, who had a strange way to show his love, to say the least. And yet she came to HIM for counsel... He turned his eyes away._

_Minisa grew sad. "Forgive me, I wasn't thinking." She lowered her voice. "Even if you and Ser Barristan Selmy could be together, there would be no heirs..."_

_Brynden almost screamed. Was he cursed to be reminded of the Selmy debacle forever? He shut his eyes and channelled his rage into reason. He felt Minisa had made a mistake that could cost her her life, and the only solution broke his heart._

_"Let go of the baby, Minisa."_

_The young woman frowned. "You mean..."_

_"Go to the maester. It's soon enough, you won't suffer. It will look like you lost it by accident..."_

_Minisa slapped him. _

_As the Blackfish looked at her in astonishment, the print of her small hand stinging his cheek, she got up, hands on her belly, defensively. "This is MY CHILD. Not a disgrace to get rid of."_

_"I know!" Brynden pleaded in desperation. "Minisa, I love Cat, Lysa and Edmure like they were flesh of my flesh!" Carefully he held out a hand to hers. She did not move away. "I love this child already." His eyes filled with tears as he tried to convince her to murder a nephew or niece he could already imagine rocking in his arms, propping on a horse, instructing in the ways of the rivers. "But..."_

_Minisa pressed her lips together, then her features distended again into a smile. She was like that, soon quieted like the great waters of the Trident. So similar to Catelyn, her eldest. Edmure was still too small to judge his character. Minisa spread warmth and tenderness everywhere she went._

_She heaved a deep sigh. "I understand your concern for me. But Brynden, I too love this child already. More than my own life." She took his hand again. "Will you still be my friend, even though you don't agree with me? My brother? I've been your sister since long before I married Hoster."_

_"Always," Brynden whispered, his throat constricted. To him she had never felt like a sister._

_Minisa grinned. "I'm so proud and lucky to enjoy your counsel. Someone else knowing is a relief. I'd be so alone with this knowledge, otherwise."_

_"You can come and talk to me anytime, Minisa," he said with a forced smile._

_She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "You'll see," she whispered, "when all is said and done, Hoster will name the baby after you, if it's a boy."_

The little girl stopped in front of him. "Uncle Brynden, what happened? Where is Mom?"

Perfect. On top of it all, informing Catelyn of Minisa's death fell to him. He breathed deeply, running his hands through his hair to calm himself. He owed it to Cat.

"Your Mom is gone," he said, forcing his words through his throat. He foresaw her next question; Catelyn was the brightest girl he knew. "She is with the Seven."

Unexpectedly, Catelyn smiled. "Then we will see her again!"

Brynden nodded. The girl was well-schooled in the Faith; Riverrun had an excellent sept. Brynden himself was quite devout, and convinced that a good, kind soul like Minisa had been welcomed by the Mother with open arms. Right there, however, this did not help one whit. Fresh tears fell down his cheeks.

Catelyn moved a step towards him. "But then, why are you crying, Uncle?"

The Blackfish held out a hand and the little girl took it with her tiny one, coming to stand beside him. "We will not see her again for the rest of our lives," he said through his tears. "And I hope our lives will be long and happy. It will take years and years before we are reunited in the Seven. Until then, all we will have of her is our memories."

Catelyn stared down at him - he sitting on the straw and she standing were almost of a height - first astonishedand then confused, searching. Finally she burst into tears. _"I don't remember Mom!"_ she wailed. _"Uncle Brynden, I don't remember her face!"_

The Blackfish held out his arms and gathered the little girl down beside him, shushing her softly and stroking her hair. The horror came unbidden to his mind.

_The last thing he remembered of her were her screams._

_He had been sitting on the stairs for hours, praying, pleading, bargaining with the gods. Above him, in the great bedroom belonging to Lord Tully and his wife, he heard Minisa shrieking in labour. He tried to remember her words of hope and love, that day on the ramparts, almost nine months earlier. No use. He could only hear the screams. The old fear and guilt struck him defenceless. If only he had had a male child, if only this had not been necessary, then maybe... maybe..._

_When the screams stopped, the wails began. _

_Minisa's women. Not an infant squalling his discontent to the world. The baby was lost, surely. Heart-rending, but Minisa and Hoster would pull through. It had happened already before, more than once. But then why, why so much grief?..._

_With legs like lead, the Blackfish stood from the step. Slowly, unwillingly, he mounted the stairs leading to the high quarters._

_When he was halfway in the corridor, Lord Hoster Tully himself came out to meet him. Contrary to him, his brother wore short hair and a cropped beard that did nothing to smooth his harsh features. Now his face was carved in stone, hard as the bed of the Trident. _

_He held a bundle in his arms. There was no blood, it had been wrapped warmly and lovingly, but it did not move, it did not make a sound._

_Hoster stood in front of his brother. The seven hells that burned his heart with pain reached out to Brynden through his eyes. He offered the dead child of a dead mother to him._

_"His name is Brynden," he said._

_On that very moment the Blackfish swore to himself that one day he would leave that place forever. Then, until he found himself crying and tearing his hair out in the stables, all memories stopped._

Brynden held the very much alive Catelyn in his arms, trying to quiet her sobbing. "I know, I know," he whispered into her fine red hair. "You're very scared now. You need to rest, and then you'll see, her face will come to you again."

Huddled by his side, Catelyn grasped the front of his tunic. "But I remember so little of her! I remember when Edmure was born, and I seem to remember my last name-day... she gave me the blue necklace... but..."

"I remember everything of her," Brynden said softly. "I will tell you about her, if you wish. This way, my memories will be yours."

Catelyn looked up at him. "Tell me something now, Uncle," she demanded. "Tell me a story of my Mom."

She could be as severe as her father, Brynden thought, but also as compelling as her mother.

He settled against the wall, his arm around Catelyn's shoulders, and a smile came to his lips. "Well, let's see, there was the time with the turkey..."

"A turkey?" the girl exclaimed, enthralled, her tears briefly forgotten.

"Aye, a turkey. Your mom was not married to your father yet, but they were engaged, so she visited often. Well, that day one of our lords came to pay his respects and he brought gifts, and there was this gorgeous turkey in a cage, and your mom was a mischievous young woman..."

As he recounted the story almost without thinking, knowing he would have to repeat it in the morning because Catelyn was falling asleep, the Blackfish refined his decision. He would leave Riverrun as he had vowed, he knew it, but not yet. First he had something to do for Minisa's children, something that Hoster, crazed by grief, could never be able to do - remember Minisa for them.

His life was not so worthless after all.

THE END


End file.
